Amalia: The Girl Who Didn't Make It
by TheNonDePlume
Summary: What if Harry Potter had an older sister? A sister placed in an orphanage. One that never lived to make it to Hogwarts, who lay forgotten under a simple headstone, with no inscription besides her name? This is her too short story.
1. Chapter 1

Summary- What if Harry Potter had an older sister? A sister placed in an orphanage. One that never lived to make it to Hogwarts, who lay forgotten under a simple headstone, with no inscription besides her name? This is her too short story.

_Amalia: the Potter who didn't make it_

Amalia raced home. Well it wasn't really home, but the Conrads made her call the dilapidated building she lived in home when around strangers.

Her bare feet pounded against the pavement and her breath puffed in the cold January air. She was after curfew, the Conrads would _kill_ her. She wasn't allowed to be late today._ It_ _wasn't my fault_ her mind cried desperately, but without hope.

Every time her left foot hit the pavement she winced. She thought that maybe Higgins had broken some of her toes.

Ben Higgins was the first grade bully, and he hated Amalia with a passion. He teased her about her small height and ragged, unfitting, and torn clothes. After school today he had cornered her and beat her up, leaving bruises in invisible places.

Amalia was a realist, or at least she thought she was, it was her firm belief that she must have done something very wrong in a past life if she was now so unloved in this one, and if she deserved the punishments she got, then who was she to complain.

Finally Amalia made it to the rickety apartment building she lived in.

Praying to god that Mr. Conrad wasn't drunk again she stepped foot inside the building. Quickly she made her way to the elevator and got to the fifth floor quickly.

From all the way down the hall Amalia could hear the glass breaking. Guessing correctly that it came from her apartment she knocked on the door quietly.

The door opened to a room beyond that was dark, to dark to see. A hand grabbed her by the neck and pulled her into the room roughly.

Amalia could smell the beer in the room, it stunk of it. Whimpering she turned around and faced the blood shot eyes of her adoptive father.

"Your late." The man growled out. "School let out an hour ago! Where were you girl? Answer me! GOD DAMMIT!"

From there the situation was worsened as the intoxicated man grabbed the girl before him and slammed her against a wall. From the rage in the man's eyes Amalia knew, _just knew, _it was all over. She was thankful. At last she would be free.

Free from the Conrads.

Free from Ben Higgins.

Free from the stares and sniggers she received from her classmates.

The word took on a whole new meaning to the dying girl as she pictured in her mind the freedom she'd have in death.

Somehow as she was slowly strangled to death by her guardian her lips twitched upwards a slight bit, as if to say _thank god it's all over_, even as her face turned blue and tears streaked down her face.

When Amalia died she spent her time in heaven watching over her brother. However as she did this her real parents stood by her and eventually others joined them. Sirius first, and others over time.

From her notch in heaven she watched her brother, and cried for him as she could never have done for herself. _Please _she'd tell herself, give him the life I never had, not the death that I did.

**A/N- This story is depressing and is only planned to be a one-shot. However if enough people review and want I will consider making this a two-shot were harry visits her grave after the war. I won't tell you how Harry would find it unless I write another chapter; I do have a good idea. If you don't like sad stories then don't read this one. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N so there you have it folks the second part of this two shot. I believe that I like the first better, but this one turned out okay. Sorry if any of you didn't like how depressing this was, but I did worn you not to read it. If you like this you might like my other fics so check it, I'd also really appreciate it if you reviewed.**

**Lots of Love,**

**Appleeater123**

**p.s. I put this in the beginning, because if I put it at the end it kind of ruins the mood, so hope you like it!**

**Amalia, the girl who didn't make it- part 2**

Harry looked at the photo and frowned to himself. Looking at the picture of the strange girl and his parents he felt a feeling of recognition in the back of his mind. He couldn't for the life of him figure out who the girl was, if he hadn't known better Harry would have thought that the girl was a relative of his.

But that was impossible, in every sense of the word. His parents had died when he was one and Remus and Sirius had never mentioned an older sibling.

Harry flipped the photo over and frowned as he saw hasty scrawl on the back in his mother's handwriting:

_Amalia, Lily, and James Potter_

_June 6, 1991_

_Park besides Godric Hollow_

His forehead crinkled in confusion._ What the hell!_ He thought to himself. Making a fast decision Harry Potter grabbed his invisibility cloak and apparated out of 13 Grimuald Place, leaving abandoned boxes of photos that his godfather had had lying all over.

It hadn't just been the one photo of the strange girl, she was often featured in them. Many had Harry in them too even!

He apparated just outside of Hogwarts grounds, and quickly walked to the Headmistress's office. After the war Professor McGonagall had taken over Dumbledore's job. Harry heard that she was doing very well.

Even though he was headed towards her office Harry had not come to contact the Headmistress, instead he was going to get answers from Professor Dumbledore's portrait.

Harry quickly bypassed the gargoyles guarding the office and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the room was empty.

The portraits in the room started whispering as soon as he appeared in the office however he only spared a look for one, Dumbledore.

"Hello Dumbledore, who's this?" Harry didn't think shrinking around the matter would get them very far so he was strait to the point.

The wise face of Dumbledore gazed out of his portrait with a face that was creased in concern.

"Oh Harry, you found it," the portrait sighed, "I guess there's no easy way to say this, but Harry you had a sister."

"Had?" Harry's eyes narrowed, pinning the man in the portrait, "what do you mean 'I had a sister' I do not."

Dumbledore's face was compassionate, "Harry her name was Amalia, and well I placed her in an orphanage, you know, after your parents died. It didn't work out for her. She never got adopted and instead she was tossed from foster home to foster home. Eventually one of the people got drunk and in a rage killed her."

"I'm sorry." Harry heard Dumbledore say before the world got dizzy and he blacked out.

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Harry Potter had woken up eventually and when he did, it was with a lost look on his face as if he was still trying to comprehend what he had just heard. With a subdued voice Harry asked for directions to his sister's grave and quickly after gaining the information left the office and didn't look back.

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Harry dropped to his knees in front of a small little headstone that was completely covered in dirt. With shaking fingers he brushed off the layers of dirt and grime that covered it. When he saw the inscription tears welled in his eyes.

_She was seven_ he thought _only seven._

He laid the daffodils he had gotten in front of the grave. The dirt on the ground clung to the white petals where they touched the beaten earth. It left the pure white color of the daffodils muddy and brown.

It is hard to think that he'd had a sister at one point, a member of his family that he _could've_ gotten to know.

In his mind he pictured himself and the girl walking by the lake at Hogwarts, they were laughing at a joke when she suddenly spun around and tagged his shoulder.

"Tag you're it!" She yelled, laughing and smiling before she took off. But that wonderful dream was not to be and neither were the others were she graduated from Hogwarts on a beautiful spring day, not the dream where she laughed at him and gave him advise about Ginny, or the one where she walked down the aisle in a beautiful white gown towards some wonderful man.

Instead she was ripped away from him by a drunken man, and not allowed to live any more.

"Amalia," her name sounded in the graveyard, originating in his parched throat.

His tongue wet his dry lips and tasted the saltiness of his tears. By now his tears were streaming down his face and mixing in the dirt below.

He collapsed there, shaking and sobbing.

For the sister he never knew.

For a girl who never got to live.

For what was stolen from him, and would never be returned.

He curled up in a ball and beat his hands against the gravestone, trying to let his frustrations out.

"Why," he sobbed, "Why you?"

And he never got an answer to his question.

Amalia only got to live for seven years, a child forever, never to move on the adulthood. She left behind a brother, a brother who would have loved her unconditionally, but one she never got to meet.

Finally at last the wailing stopped and complete and utter silence engulfed the graveyard, it surrounded Harry.

Into this silence he whispered two last words,

"I'm sorry."


End file.
